


No Goodbyes

by tinknevertalks



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hollow Earth arc, Post Series, Slight fluff, oxford era, people are complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinknevertalks/pseuds/tinknevertalks
Summary: Three moments in John and Helen's lives.





	No Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> BIG WARNING UP FRONT: This fic is primarily a Helen/John fic. The Helen/Nikola section is just at the start because that's my ship. The rest in Helen/John, unapologetically so.
> 
> This all came about because Dua Lipa has a song called [No Goodbyes](https://youtu.be/Htt1BB0ggIM) that is just amazing (click the link, it takes you to a YouTube vid). It also made me think of Helen/John (not really my cup of tea but this wouldn't leave me alone), because things got so twisty with them.
> 
> This is unbeta'd, so if you find any mistakes (spelling, tenses, etc), please let me know. :) And finally, I hope you enjoy.

Nikola’s whispering something into Helen’s ear when John sees them. Her smile lights up her face with whatever it is he’s saying and her eyes, bright with mirth and joy, look up into his as she says something back. John can’t hear, doesn’t want to hear. Nodding, Nikola walks into the little bistro, whilst Helen soaks up the sun. Sitting at a table outside, her long hair blonde again after so many years of it dark, there’s an ease to her body he hasn’t seen in centuries. 

She looks happy. Content.

Those same blue eyes look over at him, widens a touch before she nods her acknowledgment. She’s seen him see her, and neither has the need or desire to further their encounter.

Nikola comes back, and in a blink, she’s smiling at him again, all teeth and joy and a coquetry that John has only ever seen from afar. Even entangled as they had been - their flirtation light when they were merely John and Helen, no hint of Jack - that particular brand of coy has always been for Nikola.

How he had hated it during the twenty first century. It was almost more than he could bear. Now, almost a century of distance between them, he can see their actions clearly; each male member of The Five had wanted her attention, had been bewitched by her, and glad of any opportunity to be around her. Even Nigel had been ensnared, although John never heard a word about impropriety between them.

But she appears happy, even if it is Nikola who draws the smile from her.

Finishing his drink, he leaves money in the saucer of his tea set, watches the pair a moment longer, then vanishes.

\--

_(“I owe you nothing.”)_

It's a frenetic meeting of lips, teeth and hands in an unused guest room at her Sanctuary. It isn’t pretty, isn’t tender; it’s fumbling fingers, tangled hair, clothes pushed aside then, “Yes,” the word hissed through her teeth, her body pinned against the wall as he thrust into her. Fingernails scratch his neck and head as he pours his frustration and love ( _obsession_ ) into every movement.

She comes with a breathless moan, but it isn’t enough for them - he knows how her body craves more by the way her thighs tighten around his hips. “The shield?” he mutters against her neck, moving her collar, kissing her neck.

“Down,” she confirms, gasping as their position changes, his movement not slowing now they’re on the mattress. Grabbing her hips tightly, he changes the angle again so her shoulders bears more weight. Her moans become more melodious than staccato, music to his ears.

As he speeds up, he growls victoriously watching her hand slithering down to her clit, circling and rubbing in concert to him thrusting. Crooning unadulterated filth, each word of lust laden love whispered knowingly in his dark tones, he is the counterpoint to her crescendoing aria, soaring high again as they both come undone, her orgasm pulling him over the edge.

In the silence, their breathing returning to normal, she arches her eyebrow and looks away, contrite. He knows what she’s about to say, even as the first word forms. “We shouldn’t have done that… Get off me.”

Moving back, sliding out of her, she moves so her feet hang over the edge of the mattress, toes alighting on the floor with a dancer’s grace as he shakes his head. “You would say that,” he murmurs as he adjusts his clothes but she’s already shifting, standing and wriggling her hips to correct her underwear, pushing down her skirt. Her cheeks are blazing although her eyes are cool.

“What should I say? That I want us again, how we were before everything?” Shaking her head, she holds herself away from him. “We don’t work, we haven’t since...” The words peter out. Her shoulders slump and a nervous exhaustion shrouds her body. “I shouldn’t have done that.” It's a whisper as she’s walking away.

Inside his chest, warring with the need to hunt her down, slice her throat ( _stop, Jack_ ), is the small sliver of John untainted by the darkness.

He agrees with her.

\--

_(“I intend to have my wicked way with you.”)_

In the candlelight, she glows. There is no other way to say it. In the warm light, surrounded by the damson blanket that adorns his bed, she looks golden, perfect. Her hair, usually pinned back away from her face, now cascades in luxurious chaotic curls over her shoulders, shrouding her heaving breasts as she watches him.

“John?” Her voice is the merest whisper - they are not alone in the house, with James taking permanent residence in John’s study and the servants in their quarters. Neither proclaim to care much about their reputations, but he doesn’t want scandal nipping at their heels.

Shaking his head, he joins her, breathing in her heady scent as she wraps herself around him. They are resplendent in their nakedness, enamoured by every visible inch begging to be touched, caressed, worshipped. A tiny smile graces her lips, minute flecks of worry speckling the adoration in her gaze.

They have been here before, quietly intimate, but they had been stolen moments. Tonight marks something better, their courtship (as unconventional as it was) now an engagement. “I am beyond words,” he answers, kissing her palm as it meanders down his cheek to his lips.

The tiny smile blossoms, warming her eyes, her whole being, with her happiness. “Then let’s dispense with words, my darling,” she answers as she straddles his hips, his hands drawn to her sides like magnets. With each kiss, a benediction from her lips, they slowly merge, Helen sinking onto him until they are one. All the while, whirling around his mind in a haze of love and sweet agony, is a single thought.

_Mine._


End file.
